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I focus on the road and sing along to the music: “And if you want love, we’ll make it, swim in a deep sea of blankets…”
Ben glances at me as I sing the words and I suddenly feel awkward singing them while he’s watching me.
If you want love, we’ll make it?I cut myself short.
“Hey, don’t let me interrupt our sing-along,” he says with a grin. He leans forward and turns up the volume before joining in at the chorus, “Your body is a wonderland, your body is a wonder, I’ll use my hands…”
He’s clearly trying to be goofy, but having Ben look at me while he sings this song has me my stomach twisting in a nervous knot. Again, I think of Ben’s hands, muscular from hours of playing guitar and piano.
I’ll use my hands…
The words of the John Mayer song echo in my head as I zone out, thinking about Ben’s hand on the nape of my neck the other night, brushing the hair out of my face, caressing—
“Lace, watch out!”
I swerve the car to avoid hitting a rabbit that’s darted onto the road.
“Shit, sorry,” I murmur as I right the car on the road, my heart pounding.
“All good.” Ben doesn’t seem to have noticed my reverie. He continues flipping
through my music selection, muttering under his breath.
“Britney? No. BSB? Of course not. Classical? Eh.”
“I listen to it when I’m writing poetry,” I say hurriedly.
“Yeah, I get that,” Ben says absentmindedly, continuing to flip through the CD book. And then he stops. I’m not paying attention as I’m busy getting us on the highway to get into the city. But my heart skips a beat and I grip the steering wheel tightly when Ben speaks up next.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here,” he says with a grin as he slips a disc out of the plastic sleeve. “Is that my own album? The very first one!”
“Shit!” I exclaim. “I forgot that was in there.”
“Not just that one! You’ve got the second one too!” Ben says, sounding both pleased and smug. “I had no idea you were a fan. Should I autograph these?” He asks jokingly, giving me a nudge.
“I was just trying to be supportive,” I say with a giggle. “Don’t touch me while I’m driving!” I add, swatting his hand away as he pokes me again teasingly for a second time.
“At least I now know that your taste in music isn’tallbad,” Ben says as he leans back in the seat and rolls down the window.
“Yeah, yeah, enjoy your little ego boost. I guess you’re getting bored at Rose Manor without girls chanting your name and stalking you in the streets,” I say with a smirk.
“Actually, it’s been a very refreshing change of pace. Relaxing.”
“Let’s see how long you feel that way.”
“And you know, the more work we do on the house, the cozier it gets.”
“Itisgetting more comfortable,” I admit with satisfaction, as I think of the progress we’ve made over the past weeks.
“We make a good team, you know?” Ben says musingly. “We’ve got my rock-n-roll edge with your feminine John-Mayer-listening style. It’s the right balance. Sexy but soft.”
“Hey, I believe John Mayer has won a few more Grammys than you have,” I joke with mock defensiveness.
“Ha, getting touchy about my criticism of John, hm? Got a little crush on him?” Ben asks with a laugh.
“A crush on John Mayer? Nah. Not my style.”
“Whatisyour style?”
